


And You, Its Only Seed

by Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)



Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [9]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curses, Enchantment, F/M, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Light Angst, Roses, Sleeping Curse, brief and mild mention of blood, thorny rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23442151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/pseuds/Luka%20z%20Rivii
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Series: Heart Day 2020 Prompts [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686376
Kudos: 43





	And You, Its Only Seed

Geralt had just wanted to do something nice. He’d wanted to give you flowers, a token gesture of affection after being away so long. How had it gotten so fucked up?

He stared down at you, collapsed on the floor clutching one of the roses from the bouquet he’d gotten for you. A thin line of blood trickled down your palm from where the thorn on the rose’s stem had pierced you. Geralt dropped by you, cursing under your breath. He shook your shoulder, snapped your name, but your eyes remained shut, breathing even and peaceful. Your heartbeat was steady but slow and it unnerved him. This was not a natural sleep.

Swearing under his breath, Geralt stood and scooped you up, carrying you out on his shoulder. He was going to find some damned answers.

* * *

“She’s been cursed,” Yennefer drawled, her hand resting on your forehead. Geralt leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

“Can you fix it?” he demanded tersely. Yennefer shot him a scathing look.

“What sort of amateur do you take me for?” she scoffed. Geralt narrowed his eyes at her.

“And what price will you demand, for saving her?”

“Mm….you’ll owe me a favor of my choosing.” Her eyes twinkled, and it made Geralt uneasy because that look in the sorceress’ eyes always spelled some sort of trouble. But one look at your peaceful face was all it took. He nodded curtly to Yennefer, muscles in his arms flexing as he clenched his fists tighter. Yennefer offered a sharp smile. “Bargain struck and accepted. Step out so I can focus on my work.” She flicked her fingers and the door swung open.

Geralt exhaled harshly, stepping out of the room. He looked over his shoulder, catching a last glimpse of Yennefer leaning over your motionless form before the door shut in his face.

* * *

Hours passed. Geralt tried meditating but he was too restless. He could smell you, hear your steady heartbeat, but he couldn’t go to you or fix this and it riled up his temper. He bounced his leg impatiently but froze as soon as he realized what he was doing. He tried pacing but that only made the restlessness worse and Geralt was ready to tear out something’s throat when he heard your quiet voice call his name.

He froze and everything in him went still. Yennefer’s voice responded, too low to pick up the words but her tone was soothing.

“Where am I…? What’s going on? Where’s Geralt?” you demanded. Geralt rubbed a hand over his face, went to the door and opened it without bothering to knock. He gazed at you, pale but sitting up on your own, and something frozen in him began to thaw.

“Y/N,” he breathed your name. You smiled wanly at him.

“Geralt. What happened?” you asked. Geralt itched to go to you, but instead made himself stay in the doorway as Yennefer answered.

“Someone enchanted the roses Geralt purchased; the thorns, when they pierce flesh, send you into an enchanted sleep that, if left untreated, will slowly drain your life force. If he hadn’t brought you to me, you’d have withered into a lifeless husk.”

“That’s enough, Yennefer,” Geralt growled, watching what little color you had drain from your face. She shot Geralt a smirk.

“A thankless job,” she said airily, moving for the door. She paused when she stood at his shoulder, violet eyes meeting amber. “Don’t forget our deal. I’ll be calling in that favor, witcher.”

Geralt pretended he couldn’t feel your eyes on his face as he nodded sharply. Yennefer winked at him before slipping from the room, leaving the door open behind her.

“Deal?” you asked as neutrally as you could manage. Geralt sighed, reluctantly met your gaze as he pulled a chair from the corner to sit at your bedside.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” he muttered. “For healing you, I owe her a favor of her choosing.”

“That’s….risky,” you frowned. Geralt shrugged.

“I had little choice.” He watched you carefully, listened to your lungs and pulse for any signs of trouble. “How are you feeling?”

“A bit lightheaded,” you admitted.

“I’m sorry.”

You blinked at Geralt. “Wh–?”

“The roses. I should have sensed they were cursed, I shouldn’t have given them to you. I shouldn’t be….” He shook his head, rubbed a hand over his face and you suspected it was to hide his expression from you. “This is a bad idea.”

“Geralt?” you asked quietly, unsure what he meant.

“You wouldn’t have been cursed if you weren’t associated with me,” he said. His gaze was frozen and stoic as it met yours; this was not Geralt your lover, this was Geralt the witcher, the mask he showed to the rest of the world. You were hurt he was using it on you.

You reached out to rest your hand on his knee, stung when he shifted away from the touch. You curled your fingers into a fist. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. You didn’t curse me.”

“I may as well have. I couldn’t even save you. You’d have died and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it.” His voice dipped low into a growl, rage sparking in his cold gaze. It wasn’t directed at you, but it still caused a prickle of gooseflesh to break out over your skin. You watched his nostrils flare as he gazed at you, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“You did stop it though,” you spoke softly, hoping to quell his anger. “You saved me, Geralt, I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

Geralt scoffed. “I caused this. I’m not…good for you, Y/N.”

You snorted. “Bullshit. Geralt, I love you. But you’re an idiot.” Geralt blinked at you, clearly not expecting that response. You held up a hand when he opened his mouth, shaking your head. “Geralt, I’d have died the night we met if not for you, remember? I owe you my life, twice over now. You take care of me, protect me no matter the risk to yourself, and you think you’re not good for me? You’re the best thing for me, and I’m incredibly grateful for you.” You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing tight when he tried to shift away again. “Geralt, _thank you._ Thank you for protecting me, for saving me, for being in my life.”

Geralt’s stoic gaze slowly softened as he looked at you. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. It was all there in the way his muscles untensed, fingers lacing through yours and squeezing gently. You smiled softly, brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles lightly. “I love you, too.”

Geralt grunted. “Lie down, dove. The curse is still affecting you; you need rest. Let me take care of you.”

You laid down, never letting go of his hand, smiling softly up at him. “Stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” Geralt vowed, bending down to press a light kiss to your forehead.


End file.
